


Em fevereiro, tem carnaval

by agaycaballero



Category: Disney - All Media Types, DuckTales (Cartoon 2017), The Three Caballeros (1944)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Carnaval, Established Relationship, M/M, Polyamory, Smoking, all aboard the OT3 train choo choo, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 11:05:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16701316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agaycaballero/pseuds/agaycaballero
Summary: Brazilian hospitality and friendliness take a whole new level on Carnaval - the kind Donald and Panchito could never imagine (or ever forget).





	Em fevereiro, tem carnaval

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by Jorge Ben Jor's País Tropical.
> 
> this is a sort of present-time au where donald and panchito (already established as an item) are crew members of a cruiseship staying in rio for an overnight during carnaval season
> 
> i've had this in mind for way longer than i'm proud to admit lmao
> 
> this is unbeta'd and it's 2 am here so bear with me in this one

 

**February 201X**

 

“You know, I think this is way too crowded for me...”

“But _cariño_ , you were the one who wanted to have a local experience, no?”

“And I already regret it! It’s so fricking hot and everyone’s all huddled up and bumping into one another!”

“Oh Donald, _mi patito_ … you need to lighten up! This is Carnaval!”

 

So much glitter and feathers and sweat mixed with sand tormented Donald. He had an arm hooked to Panchito, afraid of losing track of each other amidst the crowd in Avenida Atlântica. It was their first time in Rio and the ship would be docked for two days before sailing to Salvador. As part of a cruiseship staff, it was rare for them to be able to enjoy their stay in a city together, especially at a such an important festivity – and that was what made them go on a tour, without actual guidance, and end up in a rather agitated street party.

Musicians performed at stage what they discovered to be Brazilian pop and local ryhthms, though they barely discerned what was sung. If even to Panchito, whose mother language was so similar to Portuguese, it was tough to understand, one could guess what it was like to a man who could barely pronounce the word _caipirinha_. Sure, there was this song where they could identify an onomatopoeia of a machine gun? Yet no clue of what the lyrics were about.

People wearing all sorts of costumes, laughing and drinking carelessly could be seen everywhere. They all seemed to be having the time of their lives, and that was what Donald wanted to feel with his partner as well – but it all felt so distant, he just did not know _how_ to properly enjoy himself.

 

“ _¡Ay!_ The guy with a cooler over there, look at him Don’! This might be exactly what we need!”

 

Well. At least Panchito always found his way into making things better.

 

“Pancho, wait up! I need a drink too!”

 

Without wasting time, Donald let himself be dragged along across the crowd, where Panchito spotted a man selling what seemed to be… freeze pops? No, that was not simply it…

 

“What are those…?”, he muttered to himself.

“ _Caipilé da fruta! Ó o caipilé da fruta, bacana!_ ”¹

 

Plenty of people were gathered around the man, who had a cooler box placed on the floor right next to him and a sign with flavors and types of liquor (which, in fact, consisted only of cheap vodka and cachaça). Panchito smiled at Donald and motioned towards the cooler, to which he just grinned wearily, unsure of how to proceed. The _caipilé_ seller eyed them sideways, scanning them from head to toe, and resumed his selling to local costumers.

 

“Don’t worry _corazón_ , I’ll do the talking.”, Panchito said, softly grabbing Donald’s hand in a reassuring gesture. “ _Amigo, dos_ ‘capelé’ _por favor!_ ”

“ _Fala comigo,_ hermano, _vai querer de quê?”_

“ _Uhh… tien—tem, uh… frutilla?_ ”

“ _Frutinha é o que mais tem, amigo_ ”, the seller answered, motioning to the cooler with all sorts of colored pops, “ _só escolher aí!_ ”

 

That didn’t go so well for a first try.

 

“ _Nonono, frutillas! Fresas!_ ”

 

How come he did not know what _frutillas_ were? It could not be so different from Portuguese!

 

“ _Frutinha fresca, tudo natural!_ ”, the seller insisted impatiently. “ _Limão, morango, maracujá e abacaxi!_ ”

 

Donald snorted at both men struggling with language barriers, watching the exchange in an attempt to catch anything he could understand from his poor Spanish skills. They saw him point to each colored pop and repeat the flavors, when finally he aimed to the red one—

 

“ _¡Sí! Morango! Este ahí, este rosado ahí por favor._ ”

“ _Cachaça, vodka?_ ”

“ _Cachaça!_... There you go Don”, Panchito handed him the _caipilé_ and Donald sighed in relief. Grabbing his own pop, Panchito beamed with joy. “ _Obrigado, amigo. ¿Quanto es?_ ”

“ _Tá trinta._ ”

“ _¿Qué?_ ”

“ _30! Comprende? Tre-in-ta?_ ”

 

Wait. That much?!

 

“Panchito, that sounds a little too expensive for a freeze pop…”

“Must be artisanal, Don”, his partner replied absent-mindedly. He went for his wallet to grab a fifty reals bill, when the seller continued, this time in English:

“30 is one. Make two for 50 _._ ”

“What the—did he say _fifty reals_ for both?!”

 

The seller had a sour look on his face when he rose his eyes to the couple. But his expression immediately changed when he saw a pair of hands reach for Panchito and Donald’s shoulders, intruding between them.

 

“ _Pô Fabinho, tá querendo passar a perna nos amigo só porque é gringo?!_ ”²

 

The seller laughed nervously. Donald and Panchito, on the other hand, went pale at the sudden approach of a whole new person, a rather touchy one nonetheless.

 

“ _Que isso, Zé! Se eu soubesse antes!..._ ”³

 

The couple turned their heads to face the total stranger who nearly embraced them out of nowhere—and a sudden warmth went entirely over their chests. A tall, bronze-skinned lad with a gentle smile stood between them. The smell of tobacco invaded their nostrils, yet for an odd reason, it did not seem to bother them even if they did not enjoy smoking. Taking a look at his garments, one could say he was a Latino dapper, wearing a yellow vest over a thin white shirt, a black bowtie and fine, dark green shorts – all combining with a lovely Panamá hat over his head. The tall gentleman widened his smile at the couple and, in a thick accent, spoke to them:

 

“These will be on the house. Consider them a welcoming gift from Rio!”

 

Secretly, Donald and Panchito could only think of one thing: if they could have ever fallen at first sight for someone, after being in love with each other for a few years now… that man would definitely be a potential candidate, if not the only one in such a long time.

 

“ _Muy amable, amigo_ ”, Panchito smiled sheepishly. “ _Obrigado!_ ”

“ _Mucho gusto!_ ”, the man replied.

 

Donald looked at both men, a sudden heat in his face denouncing what he feared to be embarrassment. After silently watching the whole scenario, he managed to utter timidly:

 

“ _O… Obrigado_ … Thanks a lot”.

“Don’t mention it. First time in Rio, right?”

 

Donald and Panchito nodded affirmatively. The man’s smile widened.

 

“I’m José Carioca, but you can call me Zé!”

 

The couple introduced themselves to Zé, shaking hands politely – even the feel of his slender fingers made their hearts skip a beat.

 

“If you’re willing to explore this city for real, I could take you both to even better places, you know.”

 

They both stared at each other for a moment. Should they trust this Zé fellow? Of course he was very kind to help them with what would be a minor con art due to language barriers, but he just met them… to offer a tour to introduce them to the city…

 

In a matter of seconds, however, they both came to a decision:

 

“Yes, please!”

“ _Por favor!_ We have to be back tomorrow and we always dreamed of meeting Rio!”

 

José laughed warmly and the men held a sigh.

 

“We should hang out then! Or, as we locals say… _vamo’ dar um rolé!_ ”

 

And hooking his arms with each of theirs, Zé dragged them along through an unusual tour in the famous Cidade Maravilhosa. They left the crowded avenue in Copacabana straight to the subway, where there seemed to be an extension of the party inside the wagons. Zé told them to pay no mind to the ruckus. “’Can’t be helped”, he added followed by a giggle, “we get overly engaged to Carnaval ever since the moment we step out of bed!”.

 

Half an hour of a train ride and they stepped off the destiny station, the whereabouts unbeknownst to Panchito and Donald. Zé was always wearing a big, warm smile on his lips as he briefly explained the city to them, albeit not missing a bit at asking about their lives on board and back in Mexico and the US. They stopped at the gates of what looked like a big park. That was when Zé proudly introduced them to Quinta da Boa Vista, urging them to come inside as he told bits of history in Rio. They could hear the sound of accordions and triangles playing from a distance, and the more they approached the source, the more enticing the music became.

 

“Zé, what kind of samba is this?”, asked a clueless Donald, only to see José stop in his tracks and hold his laughter – to no avail, as a matter of fact.

“Forgive me!”, he complied as soon as he saw the embarrassment in Donald’s face. “It’s only fair enough that you'd never heard of _baião_.”

 

He motioned to the crowd in front of them, aiming at the band. The couple noticed they wore costumes as well, but they looked rather different, especially with those half-moon shaped hats which seemed to be made of leather.

 

“You see", Zé continued, "Carnaval is widely celebrated in different ways throughout Brazil. The music and costumes you see right there are very popular in the North and Northeast, it’s a whole different culture you know?”

 

Panchito felt like it was Navidad when he saw a giant colored bull standing amongst the party.

 

“ _¡Ah!_ They have a _piñata_ over there too! Can we hit it?”

 

“No no no! _Calma aí_!”, Zé quickly held Panchito back before he could run to the poor sculpture and explained: “That’s not a _piñata,_ that's _Bumba Meu Boi_! The bull who perishes and returns to life through the magic of music!”

 

Everything was so colorful and magical, it left the couple amazed. The party was crowded, but not as much as the one they had been in previously – it all felt much more amiable, even the music sounded more pleasing to their ears despite the struggle with understanding the language. Panchito was eager to learn how to dance _forró_ , which Zé willingly tried to teach after a few cans of beer. Donald couldn’t help his giggles as he watched his partner entangled with Zé in a most hilarious dance lesson.

 

He kept watching them, jamming to the music performed so happily, and caught himself not only admiring Panchito’s languid frame in joyful (yet careless) steps, but also José’s smooth movements. They synced in so nicely – and whether it was all the beer they had or something else, Donald simply had a faint urge of embracing both.

 

That was when he felt warm hands grab his own. It was Panchito and Zé inviting him to dance along with them. Donald did not even think twice – he just smiled and joined them in a dance that belonged to only the three of them. His beloved Panchito, a longtime sweetheart of his, and his newly acquainted, yet already beloved José, who Donald longed to be with for as long as possible that day. For once he finally felt comfortable and happy in this odd, yet charming city. Seeing Panchito’s happiness only increased his own.

 

* * *

 

 

As evening approached, the streets were bathed in light by the lampposts, windows and neon signs. Brazilian funk and pop blared inside most bars, and more glittered people were seen gathered to drink, dance and have a good time in every possible corner. Panchito and Donald, still under José’s guidance, found themselves in Lapa, tasting a bit more of Rio’s history and bohemian atmosphere. Capirinhas at hand, they sat at Selarón Stairs, as Zé – now closer to the couple as if they were acquainted for a lifetime already – talked of a wide variety of topics, even personal matters.

 

“So, how long have you two been together?”

 

It was Panchito who happily answered, looking at Donald tenderly.

 

“Five contracts! Which is to say, it’s been nearly six years now, right _patito_?”

 

José raised his eyebrows in awe.

 

“Five contracts? Six years? That’s quite a lot!”

 

Donald chuckled at Zé’s surprise.

 

“Started off as cabin mates”, he explained. “Now we even get to alternate spending our vacations at each other’s home.”

“Wow! Sounds really great”, José gulped his drink and continued, “and do you have, like… plans of settling in together?”

 

The couple fell silence and stared at each other. Zé motioned his lips open to assumedly utter an apology, but Panchito was faster and replied:

 

“If all goes as planned, we’re signing off for good by the end of this contract”, he smiled. “We plan on living in Donald's hometown, Duckburg.”

 

José softened his expression and nodded.

 

“Maybe then you two could show me around when I visit the States!”

 

Hours passed by as they drank, chatted and enjoyed themselves. Sometimes a drunk passerby would play with them, too inebriated in their own fun to sound reasonable, yet friendly and warm as Donald and Panchito had never seen in any other place. To Panchito, that moment felt like absolute bliss. He had his lover by his side in a beautiful country, finally getting to enjoy his stay at the Wonderful City – moreover, with a lovely local who was eager to guarantee they had a unique experience. It really was a relish.

 

A cachaça-fueled Donald suddenly raised his arms and yelled in a sluggish tone:

 

“Panchito! My love, I wanna live in—hic—Brazil! I’m nev _ah_ … leavin’ Rio ev _ah_!”

 

Both Latino men laughed out loud at Donald’s affectionate spurt.

 

“ _Sí, sí_ , me too, _mi amor_! But first, we gotta go back to the ship!”

 

And that was all it took for Donald’s goofy smile to be replaced by an expression of panic.

 

“Oh no! The ship! The ship, Panchito! We gotta go back!”, he jumped out of his seat on the stairs and held his head in desperation. “Zé! Please take us back to the port! We’ll be late for the drill! We’re _gunna_ —hic—the ship—”

 

José calmly stood up, faced the panicking man and gently placed his hands on Donald’s shoulders, who paralyzed in that instant.

 

“Take it easy, Donald”, he smiled, sliding his hands to his arms. “You already said you only need to be there in the evening.”

 

Donald’s cheeks reddened. He gazed at the Brazilian lad, an incomprehensible expression over his face. And out of a befuddled impulse, Donald forgot his surroundings and crashed his lips against José, who was, for a matter, evidently surprised—but never did back off, simply staying there for few seconds until Donald pulled apart.

 

That was when José subtly stepped away and looked at Panchito. He watched the whole exchange with a serene look, not quite expressing any reaction to the scene... though it did amuse him. It always amazed Panchito how crystal clear Donald could be. Whether under the influence of alcohol or not, his lover was like an open book to him - his thoughts, his feelings, everything about Donald always seemed so explicit, Panchito wondered if other people could also see through him like that.

 

Nonetheless, he could not help but wonder whether he could see through someone else like that as well.

 

José raised his hands defensively as he saw the Mexican man raise to his feet, but to his surprise, his face did not bear an angry look but rather a smile, of all things. He fondly kissed Donald on the forehead, who muttered inebriated apologies and excuses, and when he finally turned to José—

 

He kissed him on the lips. Just like his partner did. And once more, he saw José just stand there, unable to react.

 

“ _¡Sale y vale!_ ”, Panchito shouted to an astounded José, “now we’re all even!”

 

Donald, who stood there looking at both men, started to giggle and drew the attention back to him. His giggling evolved to an actual laughter and suddenly, the atmosphere amongst the trio seemed to lighten up.

 

“You’re _borracho_ as a sailor, _mi amor_!”

“I _am_ a sailor, my love!”

“You two”, José observed, still astonished, “are definitely _chapados_!”

“ _¡No te quedas de piedra Zé!_ ” Panchito laughed, patting his back. “ _Somos como sol, arena y mar…_ yes, like birds of a feather, _¡te digo que somos los tres caballeros!_ ”

 

As if nothing unusual ever happened they resumed their party. Yet, deep inside, Panchito could feel his heart thumping against his chest.

 

José once again tried to give them dance lessons, trying to teach the _gingado_ , but even his own drunk feet did not follow proper directions already. Panchito nearly hugged a man selling tequila shots, despite José warning him of its dubious quality. And Donald, wasted as he was, could only laugh and speak gibberish at that rate.

 

When the clock struck three in the morning, however, a barely reasonable Panchito raised a question.

 

“Zé, do you know any places near the port where Donald and I could sleep? We can’t go back to the ship like this!”

 

José furrowed his brows and tapped a finger against his chin.

 

“ _Bom_ … there are a few hotels and motels around here, but they’re probably overbooked due to Carnaval…”, and that was when he came up with another idea. “There _is_ a place where you two could crash in too. Which is to say, _my_ place.”

“Oh, we couldn’t bother you with that!”, Panchito replied, raising a hand to his chest. “You already helped us so much!”

“Vila Xurupita is really close to the docks”, Zé continued with a grin, “and it wouldn’t be a bother at all! You’re already my friends!”

“I wanna go to Zé’s place!”, Donald joined the conversation, hugging Panchito from the side. “We 'gonna host’im when he visits us too, Pancho!”

 

They all gazed at each other and eventually nodded in agreement.

 

“Let’s hit to Vila Xurupita then!”

 

* * *

 

The ride to Vila Xurupita, unlike the rest of the day, was a rather peaceful one. Donald fell asleep on his seat, resting his head over Panchito’s chest, who finally begun to feel the effects of alcohol drowse him. He sat between his partner and José, to whom he bid his words of gratitude once more.

 

“You’re a real pal, Zé, I don’t think anyone else would’ve ever done so much for us”, he said, staring at the warm pair of hazel eyes.

“ _Imagina_ ”, José replied with a sleepy grin. “I had a real good time with you two, you know.”

“So did we! I’ve never seen Donald so cheerful before!”, José chuckled at Panchito’s words. “ _Me quedé muy dichoso por verlo divirtiendose tanto_.”¹²

“ _Eso me recuerda…_ ”, this time José lowered his voice as he switched to Spanish. “ _Lo siento por lo que ha pasado en aquel momento._ ”¹²

The Mexican lad raised an eyebrow. “ _¿Te refieres al beso?_ ”¹²

 

His face was so close to José’s he could feel his breath fanning against his own mouth. Goodness, he had such a lovely look on him! If only…

 

“ _Tu novio estaba borracho, todavía yo he sido irrespetuoso en permitilo que—_ ”¹²

 

Panchito cut José’s words all of a sudden to kiss him once more. Eagerly.

With his free hand (since the other fumbled Donald’s hair), he held José by the chin, placing soft pecks upon his slightly parted lips. He could feel the warmth of Zé's face and the trembling of his hands holding him by the sides. He pulled out with a sigh, watching his lips suck for air subtly, looking around the empty van to see if there were any witnesses – the van driver and his _trocador¹³_ , however, were too focused on the radio music and the road to pay any attention.

 

“ _No pasa nada_ ”, was all Panchito said.¹²

 

They resumed their ride silently, José holding Panchito’s hand as the Mexican man held Donald in his chest until their arrival. Once the van reached its final stop, Vila Xurupita, the three men stumbled out of the car, Donald still shaking the sleep off his body as much as Panchito and José tried to sober up and walk their way through the neighborhood.

 

“This is where I was born and raised”, José spoke, lighting a handmade cigarette in his lips. “Vila Xurupita is one of the oldest favelas in Rio”.

 

The couple looked around wearily, then back at José.

 

“Is it... _peligroso_?”

 

José laughed.

 

“Only if you mess with the wrong person in the wrong day at the wrong time, really”, he replied. “We’re mostly a familiar community despite the conditions we live in.”

 

A few corners later they arrived to José’s gates. He tossed the cigarette away and took his keys, languidly placing a large one in the gate to open it, inviting the couple to the front door, which he promptly opened as well. Soon they found themselves inside the living room: simple yet tidy and nicely decorated, they noticed a wooden cabinet placed against the wall with what seemed statues of saints, neatly placed alongside candles; a mirror stood above the cabinet, reflecting the entrance and their inebriated faces.

 

“My! _Tienes una casa ruiquísima_ ”, Panchito observed.

“Yeah”, Donald completed with a yawn. “This place look really nice!”

“It belonged to my mother”, José said. “She passed away a few years ago, so it’s just me, myself and I for now”.

 

He then excused himself and quickly left the room. Donald and Panchito resumed looking around, and few minutes later the Brazilian lad returned with a pair of towels and spare clothes, handing each to them.

 

“I suppose these should fit you both well. The bathroom is in the second door to the left.”

“ _Muy amable._ ”

“I’m gonna brew some coffee. Please make yourself at home.”

“Thanks, pal.”

 

The strong fragrance of coffee soon spread through the house, leaving an inviting aroma to whoever passed by at that time. José was nearly finished with the drinks when the couple returned, now wearing his pajamas, and promptly were offered a seat at the table.

 

“Was the water okay?”

“Sure, it was great!”

“Glad to hear that!” José grinned as he poured coffee in their cups. “There’s sugar right here and some milk over here too.”

 

As they tasted the coffee and enjoyed their time, José quietly observed the couple. Their exchange of glances, the way their elbows rubbed together occasionally. His clothes did suit them so well – he noticed the way the fabric clung very slightly to Donald’s bulkier figure, and the collarbones charmingly poking out of Panchito’s shirt. They looked beautiful as much as a pair as individually, José just could not help admiring the two of them.

 

Had there not been so many oddities against any desirable scenario, he certainly longed for a connection like they had with each other. For a moment, a wave of sadness struck him. Yet he tried to dismiss it, standing up and excusing himself for a shower.

 

“You two are sleeping in my bedroom, I’ll be in the room next door, okay? There’s a large bed and AC.”

 

The couple thanked him once again. Once he closed the bathroom door, a heavy sigh left José’s lips. He tried to collect the facts that happened over the night, never finding himself in that kind of situation. A couple of foreigners who caught his eye amidst a crowd, who probably believed to be lured by him – yet it just felt like the other way around. To barely know them but already crave for as much time as possible with them, it made his chest tighten.

 

He let the cold water dilute his thoughts down the drain. Washing his thick, curly locks, he tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach and the hangover hammering against his head. Donald and Panchito would be gone in few hours, and there would nothing left for him to think of, except the imminent _saudade_.

With that in mind, he left the shower, drying himself and putting on his clothes. When he pulled the door open, however, the sight of Donald and Panchito standing in the hallway made him freeze in his place.

 

“Is… something wrong?” he asked, unsure, shutting the door and leaning against it.

 

They motioned their mouths open but did not manage to utter a word. Seconds passed by in silence as the trio look at one another and back.

 

He knew it. So did they. The absurd tension and avidity that made hearts thump against the ribcage and throats dry to a point they could simply not speak.

 

It made him shiver in anticipation and uncertainty. José could not take it any longer.

 

He quickly (yet gently) grabbed Panchito and Donald by the wrist and pulled them to his own room. José could not pinpoint exactly what, when, who or how, but eventually he found himself entwined between pairs of arms and legs, warm flesh against his own and soft voices against his ears -- a unique delight he had never seen himself in. Amidst the fumbling of fingers and bare limbs, he felt loved like he had never been. And it felt _so_ great for once.

 

He wished to stay like that forever - as long as it could last. When he finally closed his eyes, feeling their breath so subtle against his collarbones, he realized how much he yearned for that feeling and it _stung_.

 

To think of all people, _he_ would be the one falling hard for a classic case of _amor de carnaval_. There he was, however, dreaming of improbable scenarios -- whether in Rio, Veracruz or Duckburg -- with people who already had their own plans. Their own fate, miles and miles away from him.

 

With that in mind, José drifted into sleep alongside his beloved guests, eased by the arms tenderly laced on each side of his.

 

* * *

 

It was nearly noon by the time Donald and Panchito rose from bed. José no longer was to be found in the bedroom. Slightly alarmed, they left the room searching for their host. The whiff of smoke turned into a clue of his whereabouts, leading them through the house back to the kitchen – and there he was, leaning against the cabinet, smoking a cigarette as he browsed his phone.

 

Soon José noticed he had company and put his phone down, greeting the couple with a lazy smile.

 

“Did you rest well?”

 

The couple smiled back and nodded.

 

“Donald snores a lot but it was all lovely otherwise.”

“I do not!”

“I still love you either way _, ¡cariño!_ ”

“As much as you love embarrassing me!”

“But _patito_ , my love!”

 

José laughed as he watched their sudden bickering. Once they recollected themselves, the Brazilian lad rose a pertinent question:

 

“How about lunch?”

 

The growling of hungry stomaches just by the mention of the word _lunch_ was enough answer, they concluded.

 

“I guess we should stop by Dadá's then”, José said. “Say, have you two ever heard of _moqueca?”_

“I have no idea what this means but it sounds delicious. Let's have all the _moocake_ we can!”

 

José snickered at Donald's awful attempt at pronouncing his favorite dish's name. Panchito, laughing lightly at the exchange, hooked both arms at each side of his treasured companions.

 

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!”

 

Walking through the streets of Vila Xurupita at daytime was certainly a whole new experience. Panchito and Donald admired the simplicity of children running in costumes and playing with colorful serpetines and foam, the humble yet lovely front of houses lined side by side in different hues.

It was a tranquil stroll. Dadá's _moqueca_ was beyond the couple expectation of how delightsome Brazilian food could be, and they made sure to let Zé know of it.

 

“Next time”, José, beer at hand, said eagerly, “I'll take you to São Cristovão again, this time to try _baião-de-dois_!”

 

 It took them not much, however, to reach a familiar place: the path to Porto Maravilha. A gigantic, beautiful cruiseship rested pompously on the dock, and a line of people was already formed to let passengers and crew members return to their trip. José, who now walked side by side Donald and Panchito, softly placed his hands on their backs, a serene yet melancholic smile plastered over his face.

 

“You were not kidding when you said you lived pretty close to the docks huh?”, Panchito said lightly, although a tinge of blues wavered among his words.

“ _Pois é_ ”, Zé replied. He watched as a lightrail tram arrived at the port station and several more people stepped off, heading to the terminal.

 

José felt a slight quiver underneath his fingers, where Donald's back rested. He rose an eyebrow as his eyes motioned to—

 

“Oh, Donald!”, turning his body to Donald, José hugged him tightly. “Please, don't! You're gonna make me cry too!”

 

Donald's face was already a mess of redness and tears — the poor thing. He hugged José back, a quiet sob leaving his mouth before he could speak.

 

“S-shut up! I'm not—I'm just—!”

“Oh, my. Did I forget to mention he's a little overemotional when it comes to farewells?”, Panchito laughed, joining their embrace. “C'mon, _corazón._ We can keep in touch with Zé anytime. I know we'll see each other again someday, right Zé?”

“ _Com certeza_! Now you know where to find me, too.”

 

The triad remained that way for a while, tangled arms and resting heads. Within their minds, they wondered how was it possible to connect so strongly to someone in such short amount of time — an absurd yet palpable feeling of yearning that seemingly lacked explanation.

Pairs of lips swiftly landed over José's before Donald and Panchito followed to the gangway.

 

“Please come visit us when we sign off!”

“Will do. Let me know when you're back home!”

 

He watched as the couple embarked, trying to keep eyes on them even amidst the crowd. Shortly after the ship's departure, José's phone buzzed repeatedly. Taking it out, he scrolled through the messages from newly saved numbers: a great amount of drunkenly-taken shots of the trio and texts that read “we'll miss you” and “looking forward to seeing you again!” warmed his chest as the soft evening breeze blew on the docks.

 

 _Amor de carnaval, hein?_ , he mused, plans of next vacations already flooding his mind.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ¹ Caipilé - a trend in Rio's Carnaval, it's basically caipirinha-flavored freeze pops.
> 
> ² "C'mon Fabinho, are you trying to pull a scam on them just because they're outsiders?!"
> 
> ³ "Not at all Zé! If only I knew it beforehand..."
> 
> ¹² "I was really happy to see him having so much fun."  
> "That reminds me... Sorry about what happened back then."  
> "You mean the kiss?"  
> "Your boyfriend was drunk, but it was disrespectful of me to let him--"  
> "It's alright."
> 
> ¹³ Trocador - not sure about the rest of the country but here in Rio vans are used (legally or not) as public transportation and the trocador is usually the guy who takes the fare money for him and the driver. 
> 
>  
> 
> well then
> 
> this was really sloppy and rushed (especially at the end) and i'm kinda embarrassed of posting it but hEY
> 
> three gay caballeros together in rio is always something to warm our hearts!!
> 
> ... no?


End file.
